Original Smile
by SwordSkill
Summary: Long before there was a ship called Nirvana and mechs called Vandreads, there was an old woman and a strapping young lady from Mejele who started it all. This is Gascogne's story.


** A/N:** I got the idea for this when it was mentioned that Gascogne had always been Magno's partner when they started the Mejele pirates, and Gascogne had always been my favorite character since the first season (I also got into a very bad Gascogne high after the fifth episode of the 2nd stage). She's quite a sassy lady...^^

**Original Smile**  
  


_She stared at her reddened knuckles through her blurry eyes. She had cried as if she had emptied her entire being of tears, as if she could never cry again. An eternity without her because of a single moment; life had never been so cruel so as to take the only thing that mattered to her by a mistake she could had averted..._

She dropped her arms numbly on her sides and her shoulders sagged, stiffly. She looked up from her knees at the hateful metal door that had separated her from her sister, and a new wave of despair overwhelmed her. But she could make no sound.

Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw the warm eyes of an old woman, looking back at her, mirroring her own.

***

The tall girl had her boots up on the rickety table, crossed by the ankles. A small light source glowed in the ceiling of the small, dark room. She gripped a long strand of wire on the corner of her mouth, and on her legs she balanced a small database as she checked the list of new items she had successfully smuggled into her market base. She carelessly flicked her hair from her face from time to time.

When the door gave a small beep, signaling the presence of a visitor, she silently pulled a drawer from the table, taking out a crossbow blaster and placing it on the table.

The door whizzed open and there stood a bent figure leaning on a stick, dressed with a brown cloak with a purple shawl. She looked up, revealing the features of an old lady, forehead creased and her face wrinkled with lines. But she smiled.

"Gascogne Rheingau," she said to the girl, more as a statement than a question.

The girl blinked, then shook her head, replying in her rough voice, "You've got the wrong person, _oba-san_. There's no one here with that name."

"Oh? Then who might you be?"

"Depends on who's asking." The girl closed her database with her hands and looked at the visitor expectantly.

The old woman gave a small sigh under her breath and said, "We came and were evicted from the same unit, Gascogne. Surely you remember me?"

"My name," said the girl with some deliberation as she steepled her fingers, "is not Gascogne."

"I was there when your sister died, young lady," said the other a little sharply, "and I understand the grief that you felt. But I see no reason for you to abandon your true identity, Ensign Rheingau. Why do you give up on life so easily?"

Gascogne lifted her boots from the table and settled them down on the floor, looking at Magno Vivan's eyes. "I didn't give up on life. If I did, I would be dead by now."

Magno looked thoughtful. "That's true. Instead, you now have established yourself as a successful smuggler of Mejele's black market in a span of three years since our eviction."

"I don't even want to know how you got that information," muttered Gascogne, looking a trifle peeved at her security leak.

Magno leaned forward. "There is hope then, for a good life, contrary to what you said years ago?"

"No," said Gascogne flatly, folding her arms on the table. "Merely a drudgery. If I didn't keep on living, my sister would be ashamed of me for not being able to keep strong." 

"Then until now you are still trying to live up to the expectations of your sister?" Magno took a seat without Gascogne's offer, setting her stick on the side. "I completely respect your sister and knew she made a great commander, but living a life not your own doesn't seem to make much of a life."

Something flickered in Gascogne's eyes and she looked away, resting her chin on her hands. "What has that got to do with anything?"

_What, indeed?_ thought Magno, but she was wise not to pursue her question. She changed the subject, seeing the sad light on the younger woman's eyes. "I hear that you've got a supply of fighter starships smuggled out from the Mejele Space Battalion."

Gascogne unfolded her arms and leaned back, obviously relieved. "I could've."

"I intend to buy some."

The girl lifted an eyebrow and commented, "Have you any idea how much they cost, even the cheapest? Starships on the black market are getting pretty rare."

Magno nodded sagely, saying, "Yes, I know, and I _will_ pay for them."

The other shrugged and lifted her hands. "Hey, if you can pay it, I can find it." She opened her database, her fingers flying over the board. "What models do you prefer?"

"What do you have?"

Gascogne looked up, chewing her wire intently. "No offense, but I don't say all what I have. Market policy, y'know. Otherwise, I'd look like a fool."

"Do you have any Dreads?"

"Had to get the most expensive, eh?" Gascogne scratched her chin as the numbers flashed on the little screen. She peered closely. "I've got a number of Dread Ryousankata. A couple of them, enough for a small squadron."

"Are they in good condition?"

"They're all government-issued, fresh from the factory." Gascogne leaned on one arm and said dryly, "Depends if you think what our so-called government makes are good or bad. Other than that, I don't sell second-hand Dreads."

"Good." Magno looked satisfied. "I'd like to take a look at them."

"How many?"

"All of them."

Suprise spread across Gascogne's face. "You serious? What're you gonna do with all of them, pick a dogfight with Talark?"

"Perhaps." Magno's eyes danced.

Gascogne snorted but she entered a note on her database. "I only take direct orders for starships, especially for government-issues. Either you buy them now, or you don't. I don't do previews." 

Magno paused, then she nodded decisively. "I trust you, Gascogne. I'll take all of them from your hands. How much are they?"

Gascogne looked a little taken aback, but she named her price, although with less sass. The old woman dug into the voluminous folds of her cloak and pulled out a thick wad of credits and handed it to Gascogne.

But Gascogne did not take them. Instead, she asked in a low voice, "Care to mention where you got all that money? That's enough to land you in a high enough class unit to last you a lifetime."

There was a light in Magno's eyes as she shook her head and said, "Like you, Gascogne, I have not been lazy for the past few years. And no, I'd rather the money go for a better purpose."

"The only good thing I can think of is to get out of that Mejele class system," said Gascogne a little bitterly.

"Do you?" echoed Magno softly.

"You bet," answered Gascogne, with a little more passion than what she had expected from herself. She busied herself with the database before she could say more. Finally, she spoke, "Hey, _oba-san_, since we came from the same unit anyway, I'll let you look at the Dreads before I take your money."

"I would appreciate that," said Magno, looking surprised yet pleased as Gascogne stood up. "But I'm sure you would want some guarantee." She took half of the credits in her hands. "Half now, half later."

Gascogne stared at her up and down, and she said gruffly, "No. No need for now." She turned her back away to shut down her database. After a long pause, she said to the wall, "I never got to thank you for...when my sister...that is, -" She stopped, at a loss.

"Everyone needs comfort once in a while," said Magno gently. "I just happened to be there when you needed it."

"Well...thanks anyhow." There was another pause. "For being there." Gascogne turned around, looking peculiarly flustered. "_Hora._ Let's go look at those Dreads."

Magno Vivan smiled, reminded of strapping young Gasco whom she had watched at a silent distance grow up in the streets and spaceports of Mejele. "Lead the way, Gasco," she said as Gascogne returned the blaster back to the drawer.

As Gascogne grabbed her coat, she said with a wry look, "Oh yeah, if you have to call me by that name, at least say it properly. _Gasco ja nakute_. GASCOGNE."

Magno laughed.

  
  


"And this," said Gascogne briskly with some quiet pride, "is my ship." She gestured at the globular, silver-green, semi-sphere spacecraft sitting serenely on the cramped, noisy docking bay filled with other ships of Mejele of all forms and sizes. "It's not something to look at, but it's the fastest delivery ship I've ever been in. Souped up the armor shell myself so that it can stand extreme blasts when the cops are after me."

"It looks lovely," said Magno admiringly, her quick eyes noting the adjustments Gascogne had made on the ship. "And the Dreads?"

"Well," Gascogne fished out a chronometer from her pocket, "they're not in this bay. Too risky. This _is_ a public docking bay for Mejele after all, and a main branch at that, and towing in my ships would cause too much attention." She jerked her thumb at the scantily-clad Mejelen Peacetroopers chatting intently by the mouth of the docking bay. "In fact, if they would really check the insides of the hangars, they'd find a lot of us 'riff-raff' and get themselves a promotion."

"They still call us riff-raff, eh?"

"Always have," Gascogne replied, looking down curiously at the old woman beside her who seemed to had talked to herself. "Well, we should be going anyway," Gascogne continued, keeping an eye at the busy bay. "My contacts say that they've got my Dreads intact over at the asteroid already."

"Your Dreads are in an asteroid?"

"Something like that. Outside the planet. And please keep the asteroid a little on the hush-hush side. No one knows about it except me and my contacts. In fact, this is the first time I'm taking a customer to it."

"Then maybe we should take my ship."

Gascogne patted her own ship. "Of course. This baby can tow anything." 

"No, I mean, let's pilot my ship to your asteroid and use it to stow all the Dreads back." Magno's eyes twinkled, and the smuggler turned around in surprise, saying, "Your ship's bigger than mine?"

Magno laughed merrily. "An old woman has to get around." She lifted her stick and pointed. "There's mine."

Her ship was a huge cruiser of staggering size, quite noticeable in the busy docking bay. It was also stunningly beautiful, sleekly crafted in red, with a streamlined hull gleaming from stem to stern. The bridge proudly sat atop the main deck and the starfighter launchers waited by the sides.

Gascogne put her hands on her hips and whistled in awe. "There's a beauty."

"That's the Kaizokufune," said Magno, lowering her stick and resting on it.

"The 'Pirateship'? Strange name." Gascogne's eyes could not leave the ship. "I've never seen the likes of it in Mejele before, either. How'd you get a haul like that?"

"Won it over a game of cards."

Gascogne rolled her eyes. "_Uso_. Not for such a beauty. Too big a stake."

"I'm not joking. The player bet her entire ship, and she lost to me over poker. A blessing, if anything." Magno patted the younger woman's arm. "I see you've taken quite a fancy over my ship. Would you like to pilot it to your asteroid?"

"I _haven't_ taken a fancy over it," said Gascogne defensively, frowning. "And besides, I don't go anywhere without my own ship."

"We could easily dock your supply ship in my hangar. There's plenty of space."

"I'll say. A ship that size filled with Dreads..." Gascogne turned around curiously, adjusting the band on her wrist. "You can pick a small-scale battle with fighters like that. Is it fast?"

"Faster than anything I've been on."

Gascogne looked uncertain, then she finally spoke, gamely cracking her knuckles, "All right, let's take it for a ride."

***

She sat on the chair, her elbows resting on the long table of the supply depot. She crushed the piece of wire she held in her hand, and it magically formed the shape of a key, nestled in her gloved palm.

Magno had been watching her silently, leaning on the doorjamb of the room. She saw the smuggler's eyes glisten before Gascogne hastily brushed them with the back of her hand. Quietly, the older woman made her way towards her friend, her stick tapping along the way. Gascogne appeared not to have noticed her.

"So how did you like piloting the ship?" Magno asked, standing beside Gascogne. 

"Handles like a dream," said Gascogne, putting the wire back in her mouth. "Fast too. We'll be in the asteroid in a few minutes or so." She swiveled her chair, surveying the room. "Supply depot's a little bare, though. You haven't stockpiled yet?"

"The ship's still new," said Magno, taking a seat beside her. "Besides, I have yet to find a good crew to fill up the ship."

"A crew?" Gascogne fiddled with her wire. "This baby can handle a hundred fifty people, more or less. Besides," she faced Magno, "you've never told me what you're going to do with the Dreads you need. And this ship too." She knocked on the table with her knuckles. "It's a fighter, isn't it? Noticed a lot of ammo launchers."

"Yes, the ship is designed as a fighter-cruiser," said Magno, spreading her hands on the table. "And for that, I'm going to need quite a crew."

"What exactly do you have in mind with a squad of Dread starfighters?"

Magno looked at Gascogne intently. "Actually, I want to have more than just a squad; I want a pirate fleet."

Gascogne didn't comprehend. "A what?"

"A pirate fleet composed of the Mejele 'riff-raff', as the Mejele elite would call us."

"Wait a minute." Gascogne raised a hand, her eyebrows crossing. "Pirates? _You're_ gonna organize an entire fleet of them? Why?"

Magno looked at her hands, lined and weary, as she clenched them into fists. "When the government started closing down the residential areas of the lower classes, like ours," she said slowly, "there were a lot of women who were left with nothing at all, wandering homelessly from unit to unit, trying to start a new life and utterly failing. Some died; some are still lost, a completely hopeless situation for them when the planet has outcasted them and given them no chance of living." She relaxed her hands and entwined her fingers. "I want to build a community for these people, to give them real hope that life is still worth living and fighting for. It's a rocky start, but at least we have someplace where we could belong."

"That's...crazy," said Gascogne, looking incredulous.

"On the contrary, Gascogne, I think it's a very practical idea," Magno said calmly. "The Mejele planet does not want us, so we'll get out of it then and seek our living somewhere else. But we are still from Mejele, so we'll still take our resources from it, and others too if needed, however forcibly it would take. Therefore the Dreads and this ship." She turned her chair to face Gascogne. "Not all were as fortunate as you were to have managed their own business, no matter how shady it is."

"Fortunate?!" echoed Gascogne resentfully, her face suddenly changing. She spat out the word as if it was poisoned, the gray fire smoldering in her eyes. "You know nothing about me. I'm tired of this life, dead tired of catering to Mejelen snobberies to earn a living, watching them with their incompetence and idiocy toy with other people's lives."

"Because you live only for yourself, Gascogne," said Magno gently. "Because you know you will never be elevated to any higher position of life. You have nothing to live for."

Gascogne didn't answer, but her narrowed eyes were hard with defiance and her mouth was set on a thin, cold line.

"Gascogne, you are the reason why I came looking for you. The Dreads were of secondary importance." Magno's voice was quiet. "I wanted you to be part of my crew."

"No," said Gascogne, shaking her head emphatically. "You misunderstand me. I'm not sick of _my_ life; I'm sick of life itself. A 'community' life would help nothing when I don't see why we have to keep drudging on when we're going to die anyway."

"Happiness. We live for happiness, ours and others." Magno lifted her hands to rub the wrinkles on her forehead. "It may sound cheap to you, but anything that makes us smile is very precious indeed."

"There's a sensible thought." Gascogne wore a bitter smirk. "We live to smile?"

"Yes." Magno's voice was steady and strong, the wisdom of years in her eyes. "We live to smile, and we smile to live."

Gascogne stared at her incomprehensively, her face a mask. Then she placed her hands on the table and hoisted herself up, chewing her wire and saying, "We've arrived. Please prepare for landing," before walking away.

**

Magno stood on the roughly-built storage facility that was situated on the alcove of an asteroid. The place was bare and spartan, with nothing more than a few hangars, a docking bay, a warehouse, and life supply, having Gascogne's simplicity written all over it. But it horded numbers of starships and weaponry that constituted her biggest bulk of market and were otherwise prohibited to be sold on Mejelen territory. The asteroid was a part of the asteroid belt located between the planets of Mejele and Talark, and its strategic positioning gave Gascogne an advantage in her smuggling.

So this was what Gascogne had accomplished, and it was certainly no small feat. In such a short span of time, she had overcome the sorrow of her sister's death and had created a well-planned and well-worked business of her own, as the asteroid storage facility proved. Despite her somewhat crude exterior, Gascogne was a clear-minded and logical thinker..._and it would be a blessing to have someone like that for the crew,_ thought Magno.

The old woman watched as some of Gascogne's "contacts" helped the smuggler load all the Dreads into the Pirateship, transporting each of the starfighters into the docking bay. Also outcasted Mejele citizens, they seemed indifferent to each other's existence, just guiding a metal vehicle without so much as a glance at each other. After all, it was only a dreary work for a day, and as for the next, they would just shift from planet to planet, trying to look for work, never to see each other again. Magno knew that Gascogne was the envy of all those girls because she had an established livelihood, but wasn't it so ironic that Gascogne was as weary and tired as those girls?

It was only then that Magno noticed that Gascogne had disappeared, seemingly to have left the slow-moving file of Dreads. She hurried to one of the loading girls and asked where "Key" was, the name Gascogne used for herself. The girl tiredly jerked a thumb into the ship and silently continued her work.

Magno found her again on the supply depot of the ship, leaning far back on the manager's chair, boots propped up against the table, crossed, with her arms behind her head. Her face had a faraway look, her faithful wire held between her lips.

"Gascogne."

Gascogne gave a start, clearly caught off-guard, and hastily pulled her long legs down, almost dropping her piece of wire. "I'm not slacking off, if that's what you're thinking," she said quickly, trying to look indifferent.

"No, it wasn't what I was thinking," said Magno, moving towards the table. "But if you wanted some rest, you could have used the living hall. It's a lot more comfortable."

Gascogne shook her head, wondering why the old woman always seemed to be so kind to her. "I guess I like this room," she finally said. "When you're in my sort of business, finding storage space for your goods is always a problem...and this supply depot of yours seems to have a lot of space. It's comfortable." She shrugged.

Magno sat on the opposite side of the table and placed her Mejelen credits on the flat surface. "Well, here is the money for the Dreads. Thank you also for loading them up for me."

Again, Gascogne made no move to accept them. She glanced at them, then she pulled out a deck of cards from her coat pocket and slapped it on the table.

"Care for a game?" she said, resting her elbow on the table and placing her cheek on her fist.

The old woman smiled. "I suppose you still can't believe that I got this ship from a game of cards?"

"Let's say I haven't played a decent game for a long time."

As Gascogne shuffled the cards, Magno asked, "Don't you worry of being caught and arrested by the police?"

"No." Gascogne effortlessly made the cards fly from one hand to another. "I rigged up the facility with an automatic defense system. If the radar picks up an unauthorized vehicle without my life signals in it, and it's getting too close for comfort, my laser cannons will lock it and blow it to bits." The playing cards gave _bat-bat_ sounds as they piled on one another.

"What if it's just a harmless ship passing through?"

"No one in her right mind would come that close to an asteroid," said Gascogne as she started dealing the cards. "But if someone does, well, she's got guts, but she's dead."

"You've worked hard all these years."

Gascogne drew her five cards from the table and faced them before her. "That's why I don't I want to lose all I've worked for. Smuggling is dicey enough already; wandering around the galaxy as pirates is even more."

Magno took her own cards and studied them. "So you disapprove of my idea?"

"No, you're free to do what you want," said Gascogne, discarding a card and taking another from the pile. "You just won't have me with you doing something as risky that."

Magno took out three from her hand and drew three from the pile without answering.

Gascogne eyed her. "That was a pretty risky move, if not crazy." She placed her cards on the table, face up. "Flush."

Magno looked up and said, "I guess there are times when you just have to take risks, and have some faith." She held her cards, facing Gascogne. "Full house."

Gascogne blinked. Then she crossed her arms, card game forgotten. "You say I don't live for anything. Well, I do." She pointed to the Mejelen credits on the table. "And it keeps me alive."

"But does it make you happy?" Magno placed both her arms on the table. "Not once have I seen you smile, Gascogne, not once since our last meeting. And I know you are at heart not as morose as you are now."

"Things happened," said Gascogne matter-of-factly, leaning back. "And unfortunately, none of them were ever anything to smile about. Life is short, and I have to keep it from getting shorter."

"Life is indeed short," agreed Magno. "That's why we have to enjoy it as much as possible."

Gascogne gazed at her, wondering. "You just don't give up, do you? Besides, I like working alone."

"I'm merely hoping you're not fooling yourself." Magno stared back at her and drew her back straight, her voice suddenly stern. "You know you're as starved for company as your "contacts" are, young lady. After all these years, you're still living in that denial you gave yourself when your sister died. You said you were tired of this life; then why don't you change it? I know that you're not all talk and no action; no, you're not that sort of person. If you believe in something, you'll go all the way to prove it. If you don't like the way things are, then don't wait for them to change; change them yourself."

For a while, Magno looked imperious and regal, but then she lapsed into her old self, and her voice softened. "I'm an old woman, Gascogne, and my life is getting shorter at a quicker pace than yours. But I've learned that I don't need my surroundings to make me smile, and that's because they don't have to. Your smile is your choice; when you smile, it comes from within you, and it's yours."

From Gascogne came no obvious reaction, her face devoid of emotion, her green eyes as steely as ever. She turned the chair, looking afar, looking beyond the walls of the ship, giving no answer.

Magno rose with her stick. There was nothing more she could do. She did not want to force an unwilling spirit to come with her; it would never work. She, after all, had her own limits.

Then Gascogne's voice suddenly floated up. "That's a hard dream you're pursuing. You're going to need a strategic hideout for headquarters, life supplies to keep you alive, and a lot of ammo to defend yourself. Add to that your fleet of Dreads and the supply ships necessary to re-energize them in the middle of a battle, _and_ on top of that, you're going to need someone to manage your entire supply system to have everything running like clockwork." 

Gascogne broke off and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "_Saa_, tell me..." And she flashed that roguish smile that the members of Magno's family of space pirates would eventually be so familiar with. "When do we start, _Okashira_?"

**end**


End file.
